


Virtually Unspoken

by AntlersandFangs, Celtic_Lass



Series: Virtually Faded Universe [9]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Bondage, Everything is consensual, F/M, First Time, Inexperienced Thranduil... but he catches on ;), Jealous Solas, Possessive Solas, Safewords, Shameless Smut, sub/dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22443418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntlersandFangs/pseuds/AntlersandFangs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celtic_Lass/pseuds/Celtic_Lass
Summary: The smutty side of the Virtually Faded Universe, some of those yummy scenes we didn't keep in the main fic :D (also an apology for the angst... )
Relationships: Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Male Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast, Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Virtually Faded Universe [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1486343
Comments: 36
Kudos: 106





	1. Cassandra/Damon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra and Damon's first time

Cassandra had often imagined what sex would be like with Damon. At their first, tentative circling she had imagined him rough and dominating, taking both of their pleasure with jokes and impish smiles, humor and strength in turn, just as he was as a leader. 

But then she had grown to know him, of his care and his deep fears of becoming something terrible, of his love of poetry and his sweet gestures of flowers and gifts. And she had imagined sex with him would be like a scene from her novels, passionate but romantic, sweet words whispered between kisses.

And then Bull had cornered her after her unexpected declaration of feelings and had laid out what he truly liked, what he needed. He had given  _ advice _ and she had listened in stunned, embarrassed fascination until she realized that the man was starting to get into detail and she had run to confront Damon.

Despite Bull’s words, she found herself completely unprepared for the instant, agile way Damon fell to his knees when she pulled his hair, the glazed, awed expression on his face as he stared up at her, as if she was something to be worshiped. It was something that captured her thoughts as she waited for the evening, for the retreat to their room.

How that man constantly surprised her. He was so strong, so large, so intent and confident. But he was gentle, and kind, and was waiting on her for her direction, willing to let her lead, control when it was just the two of them. She waited for him in his room, eager, curious, frustrated, and with the definite feeling that she should have noticed before it had been so crudely pointed out to her. 

The moment he was within his room she advanced on him and he swallowed, his eyes fixed on her with an eager, heated light. 

“You let me lead when we dance. You move when I push you.” She put her hand against his strong, solid chest and pushed. He proved her words right by moving back with the pressure without hesitation, without resistance. Willing to let her have him where she wanted him. This amazing man wanted to please her. The thought sent a thrill through her spine.

“You listen to me.” No, that wasn’t right. “No, you obey me.” She pushed again and again he moved where she wanted him, willing and eager. His eyes were fixed on hers, his gaze intent and heated as the back of his knees hit the bed.

“You…” She remembered the feel of him beneath her when she had attacked him for entering her tent and felt herself blush with confused embarrassment. “You were… interested, when I hit you the second time.”

He nodded, his eyes still fixed on her as if she held the secrets to the universe. As if he was willing to let her do whatever she wished to him as long as it brought her pleasure. She steeled her courage to continue. The Iron Bull had been quite… clear on the necessity of a single word that would bring any game to a complete halt. 

“The… Iron Bull explained a ‘safeword’ to me and how to properly use one. What is yours?”

“Church.” There was only a slight hesitation before he gave it to her and she couldn’t help an irritated noise at the irreverent, reverent man. But yes, that word would bring any heated activity to a sudden halt. 

She lifted her chin to face him, stepping close enough to feel the heat that radiated from him. “Kiss me.” An order, a plea, an offering of what he needed.

“As you wish.” He said gently, meaningfully, as he always did, as if it was a prayer and a vow, and pressed his mouth to hers, softly, sweetly. The exact type of kiss that she enjoyed in dark corners, stolen romantic moments. 

But this was not a stolen moment, this was them. Honest and in love. She twisted her hand into the white length of his hair and yanked, for a heartbeat feeling horrified at the force she had used, but then his knees bent as if made of water and he was kneeling before her, eyes half closed in pleasure, staring up at her as if she were a goddess he was blessed to worship. As if his own happiness was second to her own.

“And not once would you have thought to tell me this is what you needed.” It was a scold and a realization. He could ask her for anything. She pulled on his hair again and his eyes fluttered, his lips parted in pleasure. “On the bed. We have time to make up for.” 

He obeyed gracefully, moving the bulk of his body like a liquid shadow to kneel on the bed, his beautiful, pale eyes fixed on her, waiting for direction. What was she to do with him? 

“Undress.” She felt her face heat at the order, but his hands went to the laces of his pants, deftly undoing them as his eyes stayed fixed on her, searching for approval. Her gaze wandered over the dark lines of him, his white hair stark against the black of his skin, each muscle moving like boulders beneath silk. And then he was revealed to her fully and, Maker help her, he was already hard, was already aroused by this.

“You’re beautiful.” The words slipped out, drawn out by the sight of the man she loved kneeling naked and wanting on their bed, waiting for her. She toed her boots off and saw the hitch of his breath. His hands twitched against his thigh but he did not move. Perhaps… She moved to stand by the edge of the bed within his reach. “Undress me.” 

“As you wish.” He reached for her and began gently, carefully removing her clothes, pressing shy kisses to each bit of skin revealed, his eyes looking up at her for permission before each caress of his lips. Heat spread through her at the reverent touches, each one filled with love. She carded her fingers through his hair as he pressed his lips to her hip and she felt him shudder as he released her from the last of her clothing.

“Gods… Cass…” His words were breathless and she had not even touched him yet. “May… may I taste you?”

Heat rushed through her at the honest, raw request, at the way he breathed against her skin, his hands going to clasp each other in the small of his back as if he was keeping himself from touching her without her allowance. She tugged on his hair, thrilled at the way he moved so easily beneath her fingers, moving him back to allow her room on the bed. She could feel his eyes on her as she arranged the pillows to her liking and then laid back on them. She felt exposed beneath his gaze as she drew a leg up, and she saw the way his chest stilled, then the sharp intake of breath, the fire in his pale eyes as he dragged them from between her legs and to her face, pleading silently for permission. 

“You may.” She half expected him to lunge at her at the allowance, so eager and obvious was his desire, but of course he did not. 

He instead bent and pressed a kiss to the hollow of her ankle, scraping his teeth up the curve of her calf and sending thrills of heat through her nerves. His tongue touched the inside of her knee, and then his hands were smoothing up her thighs in twin trails of heat as he spread her legs to make room for his head as he began kissing up the inside of her thighs. She had to open her legs to the point of strain to allow him to her core, the sharp curl of his horns scraping against her skin and leaving red scrapes in their wake, like a pilgrim’s path to a temple. 

She was wet for him by the time he finally pressed his lips to her, heated and wanting and the rumbling groan of pleasure he emitted as his tongue delved into her brought a gasp from her. His eyes looked up from where he was bent over her and he whispered, his lips brushing against her mound in curls of pleasure. “You are beautiful, my lady.” 

She felt heat curl tighter into her belly at the endearment and she reached down, tangling her fingers into his hair as he seemed to enjoy so much. His hands tightened on her thighs and his eyes half closed. She summoned her courage, feeling equal parts shy and empowered by his honest worship. “You may bring your lady to pleasure, Kadan.”

He obeyed immediately and with enthusiasm and skill, using his lips and tongue and teeth to find what made her groan and gasp and writhe, his large, strong hands holding her thighs safely away from his horns no matter how she arched. She found herself grabbing onto them, the rough ridges biting into her palms as she used them to direct him where she wanted him most and she was rewarded for the handling by him making a strangled growl that resonated through where his mouth was buried into her folds. He devoured and worshiped her until the heat and the pleasure built up, inflamed till it could burn no higher, and then with a heated flick of his tongue against her clit she was crying out, flung over the cliff of release and into bliss. 

He eased her back to her senses with gentle kisses against her thighs, his hands caressing her legs with soothing waves of heat. It took some time for her to gather enough of her mind from the boneless, liquid pleasure running through her in order to command the patient, still wanting man between her legs. She tugged on his horns, pulling him up until he was over her, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders and his knees between her legs. Maker, he was so large, so strong, and he was trembling, his breath tiny little pants as he gazed down at her in lust and awe. 

She reached between them and took hold of his cock and was rewarded with a curse and a slight jerk of his hips. She saw his hands curl into the blankets on either side of her, his body trembling with restraint as she stroked him, pulling pleasure from him as he gasped above her, strong and solid and hers.

“Please… Cass, please. Let me… anything, please. Fuck.” His eyes were clenched shut with the agony of withheld pleasure and still he waited for her to allow him, to command him. 

She clasped the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him deeply, tasting herself on his lips as she wrung his pleasure from him with her hand. He whimpered against her mouth, kissing her desperately until she realized what he was waiting for. “Come for me, Damon.” 

He gasped like she had struck him, his hips moving in erratic jerks as he fucked into her hand, his breath hot against her lips until he was spilling across her fingers with a keening sound of pleasure. He collapsed, rolling to the side so as not to crush her, and she soothed a hand down his trembling back, the weight of his arm and leg heavy and reassuring atop her. “You were wonderful.”

He shuddered again and she saw his eyes open, pale and worshipping. “As are you.” His words were breathless and she felt a glow of affection for her strange, gentle, lover.

“Rest. I wish to try that again before morning.” 

His arm tightened around her, a needy whimper in his chest as he smiled, his dark lips pulling back with the expression to show the sharp point of his canine teeth. “As you wish, my lady.” 


	2. Solas/Emma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas and Emma's first time

She had been in the Undercroft all day, her clever mind picking through the Blight as if she was absolutely certain she could cure it. And watching bent over her samples and notes, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lip caught between her teeth, he believed she could…

He cleared his throat, pressing gently against her arua with his own to gain her attention lest he be caught staring. 

She looked up and her eyes lit up in pure, brilliant, silver light, her aura flaring in honest pleasure at seeing him. She… she lit up for him like no other and it made him dare hope… but no, she had made her feelings known: she valued him as a friend. Only a friend. “I thought you would prefer to take your meal here this evening.” Her unique, brilliant mind had latched onto the problem relentlessly, focused intensely. He found himself irrationally jealous of her samples. 

She was hungry, and washed her hands studiously, obsessed with cleanliness as ever, and she graced him with another silver smile that wisped with happiness and contentment as she deftly began tearing into her food, bemoaning her focus and lost time. 

He made a paltry joke, and she laughed brightly, her rich brown hair escaping the disheveled bun she had captured it in. She often looked disheveled, as if she had just come from some private corner with a- 

She was frustrated with her hair. He could help her, and also indulge himself with… innocent touches to the tresses. The act of braiding her soft hair came with ease... and she half closed her eyes under his fingers, trusting and relaxing. She gave him one of her beautiful, shining smiles, flares of gratitude and pleasure singing from her as she thanked him.

“My pleasure.” How true that was. He would quite happily run his fingers through her hair any time she wished. 

For him to arrange her hair. 

He forced himself to change the subject, to wrench his thoughts away from the feel of her hair beneath his hands, but she was just as… intent and bright when speaking of her research. And when he presented the solution to her vexation, showed her how to solve her dilemma, a simple thing, a spell learned from necessity millennia ago, her joy was…

Overwhelming. Bright, shining, her arms around him, pulling him to her so he could feel the heat of her through their clothing, her magic singing in pleased wonder.

She looked up at him and her lips parted in her unrestrained smile and- foolish, foolish old wolf, he could not help but claim a kiss from them, her magic singing and flaring against him till it felt he could breathe in her happiness. 

But she was still. Still beneath his hands that held her face, still beneath his mouth, and- fenedhis! What had he done? She thought of him as a friend and he had- Pala! He had to fix this. Foolish foolish.

He stepped back, ready to beg forgiveness, to- to- He did not have the chance to think of all he would do for her before she was dragging him back to her mouth, her fingers greedy and insistent and her lips soft and sweet and he could not, would not keep himself from touching when her tongue was against his lips and her fingers were drawing him ever nearer. 

He felt as if he could devour her but that she might devour him in turn. He moved, intending to- it did not matter what he intended because she was  _ pushing _ him, small and confident and strong, and the back of his legs hit her chair as her magic rushed at him in pleasure and lust and fire and-

Pala. She was sitting on him, pressing them together in heated, wonderful ways and her magic was coiling against him, curling in and in and if she did not stop he would consume her, take her and make her  _ his _ but-

He pulled back from the kiss, clawing at his self control to pull his aura from hers, to control himself, to not- not bind her so without her knowledge. He felt shaken and desperate as they breathed each other in, the air heavy with her magic and arousal and-

“My precious, difficult woman, you know not what you do.” His fingers curled tightly around her even as he tried to warn her that he would selfishly, hungrily take anything she gave him. His language, forgotten and old as him, fell from his tongue in his… distraction, but she laughed softly, understanding, knowing the words of his past as she kissed and her magic kissed. He took it, his spirit craving it, and her mouth opened willingly to him and he took, drinking her in before he forced himself away and he caught her wrist and pressed his mouth to the delicate skin, to the pulse of her heart and magic beneath the scent of her, her magic that moved as she breathed and thought and  _ moved _ , because she was… Emma.

“Mine, mine, mine love…” Her name, her name he wanted to howl to the skies to let the world know she was  _ his _ … but only if she wished it. “Your magic touches everything you do.” He whispered against the tender skin of her wrist, and her breath caught in wonder when he looked at her. He knew his magic was reaching for her, was making itself visible at her call. “You sing to me.” 

She apologized in an embarrassed exhale, but did not draw away, instead catching her soft lip between her teeth, her hips moving slightly on top of him as she fidgeted in embarrassment and he could not help it, he claimed her lip, biting- gently, gently foolish wolf- but she moaned and shifted again, and it was all he could do not to rut up against her. Her fingers were still tight and greedy on him, like she wished to devour him as much as he wished to claim her.

How long he had wanted to do that… he said as much before dropping his head to the vulnerable, beautiful curve of her neck, breathing in her scent before kissing, gently. Gentle. He wanted- how he wanted to claim her, to join with her, entangle like their auras were, intimate and heady and- She shivered and bared her throat to him, her hips hitching against his when he couldn’t help but mouth at the line of her neck before he made himself pull away before he would bite, would mark, would take. 

She was… Emma. Brilliant, small, strong, clever, beautiful, Emma. She… she deserved better, deserved tenderness. “You are so beautiful.” He kissed her, properly, softly, but suddenly her aura recoiled in dread and fear and he did not know what he had done wrong, but it was enough to throw back his  _ need _ for her. “Mine love?”

Her aura retreated still further as she looked away, hesitant and uncertain. “Solas, this isn’t…” He could feel her pulling away from him and he forced himself to not chase after her, to listen. “It’s not… it’s not because I have magic now, is it?”

“No and yes.” And she began to pull away with a hint of horror and he understood her fear, understood that she would dread that. The evanuris would have warred among themselves for the chance to bind her to them, bind her magic to them. Andruil had tried to bind his, had bound Ghilan’nain. He clung to her aura desperately, wishing for a moment, just a moment, please, to explain his hasty answer. 

“Please, let me finish.” He held her tightly even as she let him go, even though he would release her if she demanded it but please, please do not demand it.

She stilled, stiff and uncertain in his arms, but she stilled, she was willing to listen. “No, because I have desired you since…” He paused, the truth would sound dishonest. He had desired her from the moment her eyes had opened and had seen him and had looked so… knowing. It would sound dishonest so he couched it in less desperate words. “I have wanted since long before your magic.” 

Her voice and magic caressed him in hope. “And yes?”

“And yes because,” he had to pause, to look away from her brilliant eyes that sang to him and drew him in, drawing him towards her as helplessly as a wolf on a lead. “Your magic sings to mine, calls it with a song that leaves me intoxicated. Your power shines when I enter the room and I began to dare hope it was for me.” The words spill from him, honest and desperate as a confession and he is rewarded with her relief and understanding, the gentle unfurling of her aura against his. He buried his face into the soft, vulnerable flesh of her throat, breathing her in as she laughs, the sound rich with happiness. 

“I thought you only thought of me as a friend.” 

Ah, what a fool he was. He could have held her, kissed her, tasted her. ”And I you.” She shivered beneath his lips and then she giggled, her aura longing and then just as suddenly embarrassed, insecure. 

“I didn’t think…”

He allowed himself to kiss the line of her jaw. “Didn’t think what?” He asked, content to taste while he was allowed.

“I didn’t think- ah!” She gasped when he allowed himself to nip, gently, gently! At her throat and her hips moved in that instinctive, heated way that made him want to rise to meet her, to rut against her and take her and- “didn't think you’d be interested.” She finished in a breathless rush. 

He allowed himself to thrust up against her, once, gently, enough to let her feel his desire for her as he bit- gentle! At her ear lobe and she arched against him, her aura curling into his in a haze of lust like she wanted to fuck into him with it as badly as he wanted to- gentle. Focus. She felt uncertain still. He asked, tried to reassure her with his tongue and teeth to the beautiful line of her throat that even now she bared to him without hesitation.

She was panting and squirming in his lap, her skin heated and flushed and her magic desperate and impatient but she made herself speak, stubborn, so determined. “Because I’m human.” 

As for reasons that he might not want her, that was one of the most ridiculous she could have. He allowed himself to laugh at the thought that he wouldn’t want her for that, did she see it as a flaw? Did she believe that he would not see the bright light of her spirit? The beauty of her mind? He drew back and looked at her, shaking his head, “You thought me so shallow?”

She flushed, the skin of her neck turning a tantalizing pink as her aura quivered in embarrassment. He cut off whatever she was about to say by covering her mouth with his, tasting and taking and touching until she was rocking against him again, her fingers curling into his tunic and her aura curling into his. She knew so much, but she held it all against the lense of her story and for all of the similarities, “Mine love, I am not him.”

She loved the shadow of him but he was here in the flesh, and they were so, so close to being joined, to reveling in the realness of each other, and he wanted, needed, to be hers, for her to be his. He mouthed at the soft flesh of her throat, tasting her magic against his tongue and scenting the heady of her lust, and he did not want to share her with a shadow of himself. “Say you are mine.” He pressed his teeth against where her neck curved into the muscle of her shoulder, desperate to claim to have to take to give but he held himself back, controlled himself, did not take more than she could knowingly give even as his voice betrayed his need with how it shook as he begged. “Please.” 

He could feel the racing of her heart beneath his tongue as she engulfed him with her magic, swallowing him in music and fire and ginger heat as she whispered in his language, the words dripping from her lips as if they were her own milk tongue. “I am yours, my wolf. As long as you will have me.” 

The words coursed through him with their intent honesty, the truth of them. She was his. His to have. His to want. He could not help himself, he thrust up against her and his teeth sank into her skin, leaving his mark where she could not hide it. His  _ hishishis _

She moaned and gasped and awkwardly, deliberately rocked against him and he wanted to take her then and there but there was blood on the table in her little dishes and soot on the ceiling and hard stone floor around them and as  _ hungry _ as the thought of rutting into her on the floor made him, she deserved better, deserved gentle and sweet.

He did not know if he had it in him to give her that but he would try, for her, would try, and he picked her up and yanked and fade stepped through his halls to drop her onto the mattress of her bed. Soft. He bent over her, bracing himself on his elbows over her lest he crush her with his weight. Gentle. He ran his tongue over the line of her throat, up to the delicate curve of her ear. Sweet. 

Her legs were still around his hips and she gasped and looked up at him with wide, beautiful, silver eyes. Her aura flared in uncertainty and shame and before he could react to the sour emotions, they were buried beneath determination and  _ want _ and her legs tightened around him as she smiled. “It seems the wolf has taken me.”

“Not yet.” He couldn’t keep the growl from his voice but her aura flared in heat and she liked it when he growled so he did it again, sinking his teeth into the muscle of her shoulder and she keened and arched against him, her fingers scrabbling at his tunic and her magic pushing in in into him till he could feel her brushing his center and he could not ever remember a time when he had felt so utterly, wonderfully claimed by someone he- he loved. 

Her hands, her small, deft, clever hands tugged at his clothes and as old as he was, as often as he had bedded and been bedded, he did not know how she managed to divest him of his tunic and shirt. The scent of ginger-fire against his skin gave her away. She had used her impossible magic in her haste and he growled again and pulled her up so he could grab at her shirt, and he hesitated, made himself stop and look at her, to ask, to be sure. “May I?”

She bit her lip, eyes glazed in desire, before she nodded. “Take me, my Wolf.” She said in his language, the ancient words dropping from her soft, pink lips like honey, her eyes determined and wanting as she lifted her arms over her head as if presenting herself to him and he groaned as he pulled her shirt off and- Pala, she was bare beneath it, so little had hidden her from his eyes, from his touch. Had he known he- no gentle. Be gentle. 

Her legs released his hips and he wanted to grab and pull her back, but she was removing her leggings, her lip between her teeth, her face and ears flushed in desire, but she was looking at him, watching for his reaction and she must have liked what she saw in his face because she smiled as she slid the fabric down her legs, kicking them off with a graceful movement of her ankles.

He licked his lips in anticipation as she moved towards him, torturously slow. “What do you want, Solas?”

“You.” The word was not pretty or playful as it should be. It was honest and bare and then her fingers were tracing the line of his stomach, uncertain but determined as they left trails of heat in their wake and began unlacing his leggings. 

“Well?” She blinked up at him, the picture of innocent confusion before she pressed a kiss to his chest, over his heart, before tilting her head in question, baring her neck to him once more as she slid his clothes down his legs with a shaky gasp as she freed him from their confines. 

He caught her hand and pulled her against him, their skin meeting in a sharp slap and she yelped in surprise. Pala, too rough. Gentle! But then she pressed her mouth to his shoulder and she  _ bit, _ her teeth leaving her own mark on him, her magic still pressing in, begging, asking, demanding he let her have him even as her tongue washed over his skin in heat and wetness.

He pushed her- gentle!- onto her back and explored, tasting and touching, biting when the curve of her flesh was too tempting and revelling in each gasp and squeak and moan he drew from her. She writhed and bucked and whimpered and clutched at him until he gathered her hands into his and pinned them above her head so he was free to palm the swell of her breast and darken his mark on her neck and nudge her legs apart with his knee. 

She gasped, his name bright and sweet on her lips as she tossed her head back, her face flushed and lax in pleasure. He abandoned his senses to exploring her, holding her still beneath him as he drew his fingers through the heated slick of her core and she keened again, arching up and presenting her breasts to his mouth.

Another time, next time, he would take his time, would taste and touch and take until she was lost in desire, but he was hungry and lost himself as her magic coiled desperately around his, licking along his aura like the fire she was.

“Mine love, I have no patience.” He growled: warning, asking.

She panted and twisted her hands where he still trapped them above her head and she nodded and let her knees fall apart to him and he pulled his fingers from her, drawing them over the sensitive bud of nerves that would make her  _ sing _ for him. She did, her voice rising in a rush of power that made his skin burn with want as he did it again, drawing her music and pleasure from her before hitching her smooth thigh over his hip and driving himself into her wet, tight, heat.

She cried out, clenching around him, her aura a blinding rush of lust and pleasure and pain and wonder and “Solas!” She gasped and he gasped and he was supposed to remember something, but all of his rational mind was bent to keep his aura from invading her, from completing the bond she did not know of. His world was consumed by her heat, the slick glide of him within her, the way her body and magic clutched at him and sang and writhed, her breathless whimpers of his name, his teeth in her neck as he claimed her as his own and she claimed him as hers. 

It was too much and not enough and when he spent himself in her in a rush of ecstasy and heat, his magic struggling against its tight leash until his fingers sparked with lightning against her and she jerked and keened and clenched around him as she cried out her own release, he could not hold himself up a moment longer. He fell atop her, rolling at the last second to keep from crushing her as she shook and panted and her magic sang and clung. 

His. His impossible woman. He had claimed her. Marked her. And oh, he loved her. She felt perfect, right, against him, like a missing piece of himself that had clicked into place. 

He gathered his senses before she did and allowed himself to admire, to look and memorize the flush of her skin, the sweat pooling in the hollow of her throat, the vivid mark of his teeth against her neck, the soft, loose smile she gave him as she hummed and rolled towards him, throwing an arm over him and curling towards him in a curl of sated bliss. 

Her aura flashed with a barely there sense of pain and he reached for her neck in concern, intending to heal. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Leave it.” She murmured happily, but did not answer his question. 

He propped himself up on his elbow to better view her, and… fenedhis… His heart dropped at the scent and sight of blood between her legs. “Emma… I hurt you.” Gentle. He was supposed to be gentle with her, loving. But he had…

She nudged him with her knee, her aura radiating reassurance and content. “S’okay. It happens the first time.”

The first time? Fenhedis! She had been untouched. “You said nothing.” Had he known... Pala! He would never have been so rough, wouldn’t have-

She bit her lip, still swollen from his kisses. “I… didn’t want you to stop.” She winced, her aura flaring in apology. “I’m sorry, I just- you wouldn’t have- if you knew.”

If he knew- she was afraid he wouldn’t want her… yet again. He sighed and shook his head before pulling her to his chest. “Mine love, had I known, I would have made it more… more gentle, slower. You are in pain and you never should have been.”

She gave a sleepy hum. “I don’t mind. You’re bitey. It’s nice.” 

He huffed and kissed her hair, breathing in her scent, still tantalizing but with the heavy aroma of sex clinging to her. He slipped a hand down between her legs and sent a touch of healing magic into her core, to ensure she would not be sore. “Sleep, mine love.”

She hummed and smiled against the skin of his chest. “Say that again.”

He grinned. “Mine love.”

She sighed happily and burrowed her face into him, murmuring in his old, forgotten tongue against his heart. “I love you, my pride, my soul.”


	3. Solas/Emma

He had been forced to watch… watch as the Antivan elf known as Zevran touched her. Touched her arms, her legs, her back, and her hips all while shooting him smug looks as he touched what was not his.

His love did not realize her emotions were so easy to read, and getting easier, she sang with them so strongly. And he did not like the spike of admiration within her embarrassment. Normally he would like to think he would not mind it but… her memories associated with the elf's name… he did not like it.

And then the elf removed some of his clothing, and his Emma’s aura flared in shock and embarrassed desire and she was  _ staring _ at him. Damon, the irritating man, flirted blatantly and Emma whirled in a flare of shame and anger and flung her knife at her brother and began scolding him, reminding him of his own affection.

“Attraction ain’t action.” The words were pointed and protective behind Damon’s impish grin, a reminder that he would protect his sister at any cost. 

Solas felt Emma reach towards him with her aura, apologetic, embarrassed, frustrated, and reassuring. He focused, tried to emulate the unthinking image she had sent him through their auras, formed an image in his mind and sent it to her. A promise, a theat, an offer. She flushed and fumbled with her weapons, her aura flaring in interest and lust, and Solas hid his satisfaction that he could affect her without stooping to removing clothing in public. 

Damon meddled, as trickster in nature as he, nudging Emma into showing her magic, her quick mind and power, as well as her grace. And when he flared in possessive jealousy when the elf offered her his weapons with a suggestive smirk, Emma pressed her magic against his, bright and hot and honest as she murmured softly in his near lost language. “The crow is pretty, but the wolf holds my heart.” And then she used her magic while it still touched his, so that he  _ felt _ the heat of her flames sing through her and into the knives, felt her pleasure as she gracefully spun the blades in a deadly, beautiful pattern, and if he was any less controlled he would have her right then and there. His beautiful, impossible, difficult love. 

He touched her aura with his, letting her feel the pride and pleasure he felt at seeing her sing, and was gratified when she turned away from the compliments of the others to embrace him and ask what  _ he _ thought of her feat. He pulled her to him, pressed side to side, his hand at her soft hip, and she allowed him the public claim, felt amused and fond and he wondered if she would allow him to kiss her in public, for all eyes to see that she was  _ his _ . 

But- they were interrupted before he could tempt himself further with the idea, and Emma rushed off to be knowing and he was left following with the Crow, who smirked at him and began speaking softly in Antivan, his tone suggestively pointed and Solas had to fight for every scrap of his control not to bare his teeth at the ‘pretty’ elf, not to let the wolf out at the man who dared touch and smirk at what was  _ his. _

Emma returned to him, feeling sad and exhausted, and she did not even smile when the elf tried to gain her attention. Her aura curled away from the Crow, curled towards him, and he shot the elf a dark look as he led her towards her room. Away from the ‘pretty crow’ and his smirks and touches. She let him take her to her room, allowed him inside without thought because she was  _ his _ . 

His, and he wanted, so he took, trapping her against the door with his body, capturing her hands above her head and growling in her ear, savoring the flash of lust and love that sang from her as he held her, helpless and his. “I believe I made you a promise, difficult woman.”

She let out a breathless laugh and twisted her hand within his, testing his grip as he mouthed at her neck, tasting while he decided where he wanted to leave his claim. She shuddered when he brushed his lips over her pulse and he grinned at the reaction, pressing his teeth against the sensitive flesh. “Emma. Emma. Emma.” He whispered before biting, sucking and nipping till she was whimpering and pressing her body against his as he left his claim where all could see. Mine. Mine. Mine. 

He moved both of her wrists to one hand so he could touch her with the other, pressing against every inch that the Antivan had touched, covering the lingering scent with his own as she pulled at his grip and tried to reach him to kiss, but he wanted to- He wanted her covered in his scent and marks, claimed and sated so all could tell by the sway of her hips and the song of her aura that she had been taken by him, that she was  _ his _ . Wanted all thoughts of any others burned out of her mind.

He began pulling at her clothes, yanking her shirt above her head and twisting it about her wrists, tightening it and drawing a gasp from her as he bound her and touched as he wished, the swell of her breast, the curve of her waist, the soft skin of her belly, touching and sometimes drawing his nails in light trails that made her begin chanting his name, begging for more. Her aura pleading, singing, for more.

He spun her around, pushing her against the door as he untied and yanked her leggings down, biting at the back of her neck and the muscle of her shoulders. He pushed his hips forward against the bare curve of her ass, let her feel his desire for her through his clothing. “Should I take you here, ma’lath? Against the door where any walking through the hall could hear? Could hear me taking you, my name in your mouth as I take my pleasure in you?” He growled and bit and she- her aura called, sang for his and he had to pull it away before the desire to complete their bond overwhelmed him. 

“Yes! Yes, yours.” She gasped and pushed herself against him and he felt heat rush through him at her acceptance of his playful words. She would let him take her here, let him claim her in yet another way. He groaned and bit at the curve of her ear as he reached between her legs to slip his fingers inside her heat, feeling the slick of her lust and drawing a keen of pleasure from her, her aura coiling desperately around him as she began moving her hips to pleasure herself on his hand and beneath his teeth. 

“Ma’lath, ma’lath, sathan! Sathan, ma’lath.” She panted and whimpered in his tongue and he growled and squeezed at the soft, tempting swell of her breast and crooked his fingers inside her to make her sing.

“Please what, ma’Emma?”

“I need-” She gasped as he pressed his thumb against her. “I need you inside me.”

“But I am.” He thrust his fingers into her to remind her and she shuddered, her aura bright and heady and needing  _ him _ .

“No, I mean-” She let out a delicious whine. “You!”

“You have me.” He was enjoying the teasing, the desperate way she fucked herself on his hand and begged and clutched at him with her magic and body, all of it for him. Only him.

“Solas!” She was growing frustrated and her aura drove into him, begging and demanding he give her what she wanted. It was overwhelming, and he almost- almost gave her what she wanted then and there, almost took her pleasure by taking his own, but no. He wanted- he wanted to hear her begging for  _ him _ . He wanted to be the only thing in her mind, her focus and desire.

“Emma?” He kept his own lust from his voice, kept it even and polite even as he palmed her breast and moved his fingers inside her body and bit the back of her neck.

“Solas!” He felt her aura cling to him, hazy and hot with need and then it flared with her impossible will, her indomitable focus, and she somehow curled her words into a purr that made him growl in earnest. “Solas, I need you to fuck me.” She arched her back and pressed herself against him through his clothing. “Please.” 

The words were raw and desperate and never heard from her, but she said it to- Pala! He could not  _ think _ around the words, could not do anything but hastily release himself from his leggings and turn her to face him. Her lips parted as she looked up at him, and he groaned as he grabbed her thighs and lifted her up, hooking her legs over his hips and driving into her with a suddenness that made her  _ howl _ . He rutted into her against the door and she cried out his name as her back slammed against the door with every thrust, her bound hands hooked over his neck as her body clenched around him and her aura coiled and carressed and claimed him even as he took her and left his marks on her for all to see, fucked her against the door of her private room where any could hear that she was his, his.

She was wet for him, her body opened and heated for him, his name filled her mouth and her magic sang for him, and every brutal thrust into her felt like sliding home. “Ma’nas, ma’vhenan, ma’lath.” He pressed the words to her throat with his teeth and tongue and magic and she sang around him and in him until her body clenched and shuddered and bowed, her aura flaring into blinding pleasure that dragged him along with her.

He stood there, holding her against the door, panting as he tried to regain his composure, and the control of his limbs. He realized he had just been far more rough with her than she had ever experienced and was about to apologize for his lapse, but froze when she suddenly began giggling, her face pressed to his shoulder. 

“Emma’lath?” She was still giggling when he set her down, only to have to support her weight.

“Oh my god!” She giggled hysterically, still pressing her face into his chest. “I literally can’t feel my legs! I thought that was an exaggeration!” 


	4. Miwen/Thranduil

“Thranduil.” He looked up from his papers, and felt the breath escape his lungs in a sharp gasp when he found her standing in front of him, her hair falling in loose waves around her, a smirk on her face, and not a stitch of clothing on her.

Oh Eru, she was breathtaking and he felt his mouth go dry as she advanced towards him, graceful, soft lines of muscle and flesh and skin and she leaned against the wall in a line of inviting beauty, her only adornment the twists of her wooden arm resting on her shoulder.

“Ma’nas.” She practically purred the words even as a flush began travelling down her face and neck towards her-

“Miwen.” His voice sounded strangled but she was naked and  _ purring _ at him and he… he did not know what to do. 

“You can touch me, if you want.” She smiled at him softly, her fea brushing his with gentle affection and heat. 

Touch. He realized the papers had been crumpled in his hands and he set them aside before he accidentally destroyed them in his distraction. He stood, and Miwen craned her head back to look up at him, her hair spilling over her shoulders and down her spine and… he felt blood rushing downwards and he felt heated and… confined in his breeches. 

“I…” He didn’t know where to start, whether to run his fingers through her hair, or kiss her, or take her hand. He wanted to- oh he wanted, but when presented with the opportunity, he felt frozen. What if he hurt her? She was so small next to him. Small and soft and he wanted to take and claim and  _ have _ . 

She gave him another smile, hungry and predatory, and moved away from the wall, moved towards him until she was close enough to feel the heat of her through his robes. She took his hand and set it on her waist and her skin was soft and warm beneath his fingers.

“You alright there, piemaker? You look a little scared.” 

Scared? Eru, he was terrified. Everything in him wanted to claim her as his but… “I… do not want to hurt you.” 

She scoffed. Actually scoffed, and squeezed her hand over his until his fingers dug into the flesh of her waist. “I won’t break. Take me, ma’lath. Claim me as yours. Put your mark on me where all can see.” 

Oh Eru, she was going to kill him with her words and intent. He loosened his grip on her waist lest he bruise her and hesitantly lifted his scarred hand to brush her hair from her face. She turned her head and kissed his wrist, and he barely had the time to react to the intimate touch before her tongue darted out and laved over the sensitive skin in wet heat that made his knees weak. 

The contact punched a sound from his chest, a gutteral sound that was almost a growl, and Miwen sighed happily. “There it is. I love that sound.”

A growl? He could barely think from the heat of her lips on his wrist and the softness of her waist beneath his fingers and she was naked and asking him to  _ take _ her and everything in him  _ wanted _ to take her but... “Miwen… show me? Show me what you like?”

Her fea moved against him in pleasure and asking and longing. “May I touch you?”

“Yes.” The answer felt drawn from his mouth before his mind had even finished forming the thought of it. 

She let out a little pleased growl, and then she was tangling her fingers into the collar of his robe and pulling him down to kiss him, but this kiss was different than those before. Her lips parted and her tongue darted out and pressed between his lips and when he opened for her, she tasted him in a slick slide of sensation that made his fingers tighten on her soft waist. She moaned and her taste was in his mouth and her fea was flaring and touching his in intimate heat and pleasure that seemed to sing through his veins until he could barely think beyond the feel of her. 

She moaned and delved into his mouth again with her tongue, and her fea engulfed his, hot and needy and wonderfully heady as she somehow  _ moved _ inside him, an undulating, wave like cascade of ecstasy and heat and it was too much with her taste in his mouth and her hand pulling him to her and her fea inside him and around him and touching every bit of his being.

“Miwen!” He gasped as he came undone under the heat of her magic, the sound of her name swallowed by her soft mouth. His knees felt weak as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through him and he found himself holding himself upright on her shoulders. He felt her fea flare in surprise and then… amusement.

She eased her grip in his robes and gently moved to support him on his unmarred side. “Ah. I forgot how… young you are. Forgive me.” 

Young? Young!? He opened his eyes, which he hadn’t realized he had closed and found her smirking at him in amusement. “Yo-“ his voice was ragged and hoarse. “Young? I- am not young.”

She bit her lip and giggled. “I thought it sounded better than ‘oh shoot I forgot that was your first time and brought out the sex magic and made you come in your pants’.” 

He was trying to wrap his mind around what she had just said but his legs were shaking. 

“Let’s get you sat down, yeah?” She still sounded amused and his pride felt stung.

“I am not young.” he growled as she pushed him to sit in his chair.

She quirked an eyebrow and made a happy moaning noise, moving to straddle his lap and, oh Eru, she was still bare. “Love that sound. Makes me want you to take me on the nearest surface.”

He felt himself blush and she bit her lip again. Was she purposefully goading him? He should have known that even…  _ this _ would be as confusing as she ever was. “What… what are you doing?”

She moved her hips and it pressed them together in a shocking, intimate way. “Ancient elves have amazing refractory periods.” 

He licked his lip as she began playing with the ties of his tunic. “You have just contradicted yourself… you called me young yet also ancient.”

“Just as me, then?” She moved and pressed a kiss to his neck, tugging aside the collar of his robe to reach the skin.

He shuddered at the feeling of her mouth, warm over his pulse. “You know what you- ahh.” He gasped as her teeth sunk into his shoulder, not enough to truly hurt but… it sent a burning sensation through him and he felt himself stirring beneath her. “You bit me.”

“Hmmm, you liked it.” She hummed happily, rolling her hips and his fingers dug into them before he forced himself to relax. “I bet you would also like it if I bit hard enough to mark you, to leave my claim where all could see. I know I like being marked, claimed.” 

“Miwen you cannot want it like…” like what? He could not even think of the words. “Love making is…”

She pulled back and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is what? Slow? Soft?” When he nodded she giggled. “Thranduil, love making is about the both of us… sex is meant to be pleasurable. And,” she laughed again. “It is not in your nature to be… soft.”

Thranduil frowned. How would she even know what his nature was? “Miwen, That is-“ She rolled her hips again and he felt a moan pulled from his chest. He was beginning to become uncomfortably confined again.

She grinned and began pushing his robes open to get to the tunic underneath. “What about this? What if I can get you to let go? Indulge in your nature? There is a wolf lurking inside you I am desperate for you to let out.”

He shifted, desperate for some kind of friction and licked his lips, “Wha- what do you mean… let go?”

She only grinned and pulled away from him, leaving his lap and he nearly whimpered at the loss of her and had to ball his fists to keep from grabbing her and pulling her back to him. She saw, of course she saw, the want, the need, in his eyes. “May I touch you, my king?”

He swallowed but nodded. He expected her to come right back into his arms, what he did not expect was for her to drop gracefully to her knees between his legs. Her hands pushed his robes aside and begin undoing the ties to his breaches. “Mi-Miwen what are you doing?!” His voice sounded comically high even to his own ears.

“Indulging.” She made that purring noise around the words as she grinned up at him and then the breath was punched from his chest again as she- He was erect again and she was  _ touching _ him and she caught her lip between her teeth as she admired him, her fea singing in pleased smugness. The feel of her small, strong hands around him was as intoxicating as dorawin wine, but then she smirked. “You might want to grab my hair.” And then she ran her tongue up the length of him, uncaring of his spend from- and he did grab her hair, though whether to pull her closer or push her away he didn’t know. 

“E'sha'reun'rodhe,” She hummed happily and the vibration made his hips jerk without his consent. He groaned, warring with his desire to thrust into the heat of her mouth and the wish to not hurt her. She hummed again and smirked. “There you are.” And then she swallowed him and he instinctively thrust again and he wanted to do it again and again and claim her mouth but he wanted to apologize to beg to- he felt heat gathering in his belly and pulled on her hair, pulled her away from him before he could spend in her mouth and she made a breathy, pleased sound. 

“Are you trying to kill me, woman?” He growled as he pulled her up and into his lap, and oh, that had not been the relief to his control that he had hoped because now her core was pressed against him and was soft and hot and slick and she made another breathy noise, her fea flaring in pleasure. 

“Yo-you are overdressed.” She gasped before pushing at his robes again. His hips jerked and she gasped again and, oh Eru it was beautiful. He wanted to hear that sound again, to bring her pleasure out and- she had said he was overdressed. He lifted her and moved the few paces to the bed, and he meant to carefully lay her down, but her teeth found his neck again in a flare of sharp heat and he groaned and half dropped her, safely onto the softness of the bed, but she bounced with the impact and let out another pleased sound. 

He pulled his robes off, tossing them away without care. When he removed his shirt her breathy ‘there you are’ nearly had him lunging for her… oh how would she look beneath him with… he balled his hands and reminded himself not to be rough… he was not a beast in heat.

“Oh, no you don’t. we just made progress, ma’fen.” She whined, then moved back on the bed, and spread her knees apart, baring the most intimate part of herself to him and- and began touching herself, her fea brushing him in invitation. “You want to take me… claim me.” She made that shuddering, breathy noise as her fingers delved into her and she tossed her head back and bared the line of her throat to him. “Mark me as yours.”

Oh, Eru he ached… he wanted… fuck. He pushed his breeches down and kicked them away and… was on top of her. He paused, tried to find his restraint, but her fingers moved between them and gripped him, still slick with her own body’s arousal, and she bit at his collarbone and it sent waves of heat and need through him. He moved, claimed her neck with his teeth and thrusted into her fingers and he did not even have the breath of mind to regret it before she made a wonderful, beautiful keening noise and arched against him in pure pleasure. 

“Please… Thranduil… t-take me… please.” She was breathy and pleading and oh so beautiful. 

As his Miwen wished. He growled and her fea sang with heat, and he lifted her thigh and she made that breathy noise, and when he slid into her, joining them together in slick heat and pleasure, she  _ sang _ . Both with her voice and her fea. 

And when he moved, oh she was beautiful, her head thrown back in pleasure, eyes silver light and he thrust back in and she keened. Beautiful. Her hand raked up his back, her fingernails leaving trails of stinging, wonderful heat in their wake and he could not help but find her neck with his teeth again as the sensation coiled through him.  _ His. _

She sang again, but her fea was pulled back lest it overwhelm him and if she could make him spend with just her magic, then perhaps- He thrust in with his body and pushed his fea towards her, into her, and she clenched around him deliciously with a shuddering cry of pleasure. 

He couldn’t help but feel smug as her body trembled beneath him, in the aftershock of her pleasure. He forced himself to stillness, waited for her to relax again before he started thrusting again, determined to bring her another peak of pleasure before he reached his own again. He matched each drive into her slick heat with a thrust of his fea, claiming her with his body and his fea and- fuck. She was  _ his _ . 

It did not take long before she was crying out again, his name in her scream of pleasure and it was too much. His mouth found her shoulder and he bit down with a growl as he spent himself within her in a rush of heated bliss.  _ His _ . He collapsed before remembering his weight and rolled while still holding her to him, not willing to let her go just yet as he regained his senses. She was laying on top of him, limp and sated and her fea humming gently through them. 

His.

“How was that for your first time, ma’lath?” She finally spoke, her words soft and slurred with bliss. 

Intense. Confusing. Terrifying. Wonderful. There were too many words for it, and not enough. He settled on, “I could stand to do that again.” 

She laughed before moaning and shifting her legs together, her fea flaring in pleasure and… pain? “Pala, you’re big.” 

“Did I hurt you?”

“Mmmm. In all the best ways.” She lifted her head to smile at him, her eyes half closed and a flush across her cheeks. She was beautiful. His. ‘All the best ways’. She truly enjoyed the… the biting and roughness he could not help. Actually encouraged it.

“What… what was your first time like?” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He should not remind her of her lost bonded, especially not now. 

“Mmm. Bitey. My wolf pinned me down and bit a mark into my neck hard enough to last for weeks as he took me.” But there was no sadness, instead her fea stirred in interest at the memory. “Emma’lath, ir tel elanel’melena’i’das.”

“What does that mean?”

“Mine love, I have no patience.”

“Emma’lath.” Mine love. He felt her fea reach towards him, curling in him contentedly as he brushed his fingers through her hair. “Emma’lath.” 


	5. Cassandra/Damon

Cass had been terrified when she had walked into their room and found Damon floating in a writhing sphere of gold, his eyes closed and ice creeping across the room. She had been terrified he had been possessed when he opened his eyes and they were gold and-

But he was alright. He was not possessed, he was just as impossibly powerful as Emma. He had to be locked away as she had, desperately struggling for control with Solas’ help. Days passed, days in which she was not allowed to see him, to check on him. Days in which she worried that he was eating or resting. But today… today he had come out of the undercroft, had gone to a council meeting and she knew- hoped that he would be returning to their room afterwards. 

She was preparing for when he did. 

Months ago she had joined him for his drinking with Bull’s Chargers, and had heard his… crass but humorous story of one of his ‘flings’ where he had been… in his words ‘getting the best dicking down of his life’ when a cat and a drunk roommate had made things take a hilarious turn towards the embarrassing. The story had stuck with her, mostly from that phrase he had used, the wistful expression he had hidden when he said it. She knew he preferred both sexes, and that he was… inclined towards certain things. 

At first, she had wondered if he was disatisfied with her lack of certian parts, but then… one of his horribly wonderful erotic novels had given her an idea. After a horribly embarrassing consultation with Sera to learn where to acquire the things she wanted, and then a horribly exact and detailed consultation with Bull for… mechanics, she had a plan.

There was a knock at their door, hesitant and shy, and she wondered who was knocking at this hour, after she had left demands to be left alone this evening. But when she answered it, there was her Damon, looking uncertain and shy. She couldn’t help but pull him in for a relieved kiss. He was alright, he was here. He felt cold, but then warm again beneath the cold and he was tense and uncertain as he held her tightly. “I’m sorry. I missed you.” 

“Do not be sorry. I am just relieved that you are well.” She pulled him into their room and shut the door behind him. Still he moved willingly beneath her touch, shifting wherever she willed despite the extraordinary power lurking beneath his skin. He was still tense, concerned, fearing that she would… would what? Cast him aside now that he was more dangerous than he had been? She reassured him, loosing his hair from its braid and touching him curiously. He was cold and then warm. She asked about it, and when she accepted it, ran her hand down the strong line of his back, he sighed and she…  _ felt _ his relief at her touch.

He was worried she would cast him away because of what he was. He tensed when she revealed she knew what he was, fear wisping away from him and she held him, pressing her cheek to his back as she reassured him that she still loved him, still wanted him. He was  _ hers _ . He trembled when she kissed the muscle of his back and she wove her fingers into his long, beautiful hair, tugging just hard enough to make him let out the breathless gasp, but not to take him to his knees.

“Get undressed, everything except for the necklace and bracelet.” He shivered again at her tone and the moment she untangled her fingers from his hair he moved to obey. 

Strong, powerful Damon, hurried to obey her, because he was  _ hers _ . She watched as he stripped gracefully, eagerly, the muscled lines of him beautiful as he bared himself at her command and knelt on the bed, clasping his hands behind his back and looking at her for approval.

“Very good.” His eyes half closed in pleasure at her praise. “What is your safeword?”

His eyes opened eagerly at the ritual. “Church.”

“Good. I bought something, a gift for both of us.” She circled the bed, and him, admiring the strong lines of him, the pretty way his hair spilled over his shoulders, the way his chest hitched under her gaze. She climbed onto the bed behind him, draping herself over the strong heat of him and grazing the line of his ear with her teeth. “I want to claim you as my own. I want to have you utterly. What do you say to that?” 

He shuddered beneath her and let out a soft gasp. “Yes. Please.”

She pulled back and gripped the back of his neck, pushing him till his face rested against the mattress. She ran her fingers down the line of his spine, savoring the slight whimper he made at the touch to his wrists, the way he shifted his knees apart as if on instinct as her hand reached the cleft of his ass. She hummed, pleased with his reaction, and he moved his knees yet further apart, wanting. 

She moved off of the bed and he whimpered, but stayed where she had placed him on his knees, his forehead pressed to the bed, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Beautiful. She undressed leisurely before moving to the little chest she had been keeping her things for him in, making sure he could see her from the corner of his eye as she opened it and brought out a vial of oil, a length of rope, and… she felt her cheeks heat as she brought out the straps of leather and the beautifully carved cock that went with it. White, just as the rope and his hair. 

Damon gasped again, shifting his knees and twisting his hands behind his back. Eager. Wanting. Hers. It was easy to don the thing, she had often practiced, had even… She had spent a small fortune to get one that was enchanted, that made her feel every touch to it as if it was to her own body, and she had practiced with it, touching it and herself with thoughts of what Damon might look like when she was fucking into him with it. 

She took the rope and oil and went to the side of the bed. “Hands.” 

He immediately moved them from behind his back to before him, offering them to her with his wrists crossed. So eager to listen to her, to please her. Beautiful and strong, and hers. 

She bound his wrists together with the white silk rope, savoring the hitch in his breath, the stark contrast of the white against his black skin. Beautiful. Hers. He lifted his head to watch her bind him, and his eyes flickered with desire and gold as his gaze trailed from the pretty knots on his wrists to her carved cock. His lips parted in a gasp as he looked at it and his tongue darted out to wet his lips before he looked up at her, silently asking… 

Oh Maker, she had not even thought of that but now that he was looking up at her, the mismatched pale of his eyes almost swallowed by his pupils, his mouth open and wanting… She groaned and tangled her fingers into his hair like he enjoyed, and when his mouth opened in a moan, she shoved her hips forward, shoved the enchanted carving into his mouth, and- oh! 

The magic sang through her body as he made greedy, pleased noises as he swallowed her, his tongue moving sweetly and his throat working around her in tight heat and- She realized he could not breathe and pulled back and he gasped and whimpered and he wanted her to claim his mouth so she did. She gripped his hair tightly and thrust into the heat of his mouth again and again, pleasure licking up her spine and curling into her core and then when she yanked on his hair his eyes flared gold and she  _ felt _ his desire, his lust and love and need and-

Her pleasure washed through her in an overwhelming wave and she couldn’t help but draw him closer, revel in the feel of his throat as the shocks of her orgasm curled through her. She panted and then realized he could not breathe, that his chest was hitching with desperation for air, but still he did not pull away, did not move without her permission. She withdrew from his mouth and he gasped and keened and pressed his head to the mattress as he panted. 

He was so beautiful and he was hers and she needed to make sure he was still alright, still had the ability to speak. “Do you like it?”

“Fuck- Cass!” He gasped. “I can see- see what it does to you. I want you-”

She hummed and smoothed his hair out of his face before grabbing his horn and pulling his head back to look up at her. “I want to claim you utterly, Damon.”

“Yesss.” The word was almost a hiss and he shuddered in want, his fingers lacing together so that the muscles of his forearms strained against the silk rope. 

“Hands on the headboard.” 

He moved eagerly and gracefully, hooking the silk rope binding his wrists over the convenient decorative post on the top of the headboard and dropping his head to rest against it as he trembled with need. She admired him, the strength and vulnerability in him contrasting just as beautifully as his black skin and horns with the white of the rope and his hair. He was hard and eager for her.

“I have half a mind to bring out some paint. Decorate your back with images. Make you hold still as I draw on your skin.” She murmured as she gathered the oil and climbed onto the bed behind him.

He let out a sharp breath and his muscled coiled and tensed. 

“You’re so beautiful, wanting and mine.” She gathered his hair up and draped it over his shoulder so she had full access to his back. She ran her fingers down the muscles and skin. “How long would you wait while I decorated you as I willed?” 

“As- as long as you wished.” He whimpered. “Please.”

“Please what, my love?” She pressed her lips to his shoulder blade, feeling the cold of his magic before the heat of his skin. Hers. “What do you need?” 

“Please. Fuck me, take me. I’m-” He gasped as she uncorked the vial of oil. “I need you.” 

“Mine.” She growled in the way that he liked and bit into the muscle of his shoulder and he keened and arched his back, presenting himself to her. Hers. 

She poured some oil into her hand and did not wait to slide a finger into him, taking him roughly as he wanted. He keened again and his body clenched around her finger and the cold feeling above his skin dissipated with a gold flare of  _ needwantheatlove _ .

“Shit.” She breathed as his magic escaped his control and carressed her and bathed her in his lust but still he kept his hands where she had bound him and his body arched and trembled and he let out a guttural groan tinted gold with his desire for her to take him, have him, fuck him. She added another finger and his hips pushed back against her hand.

“Please!” He whined, the sound sweet and soft despite his bulk and power. 

“As you wish, Kadan.” And she added another, too soon, she worried but the gold of his heart flared brightly from him in a mental litany of  _ yesyesyesyes _ ! And it draws her in, makes her want and the heat gather in her belly and between her legs, and maybe she can ride him after she’s taken him- he’s gloriously quick to recover and- oh, he lets out that beautiful whimper and pushes back on her fingers and keens when she pulls them from the tight heat of his body and slicks her cock in a ripple of pleasure.

He lets out a gutted, near wolf like howl when she starts to press her carved cock into the greedy, desperate heat of his body, and the gold sings and drapes over her  _ yesyesyesharderdeeperneedtakeclaim _ . She hisses and clutches his hips hard enough to bruise as she bites his shoulder and slides home. She has to stop, to bite and taste and breathe as he clenches around her, his magic mingling with the enchantments of her cock and curling in and around and through her, tight, hot, needing her.

“Oh, I missed you.” She whispers and bites the nape of his neck like a rutting wolf as she starts to fuck him in earnest. 

He’s there beneath her, strong and real and hot and tight and gasping her name and a litany of pleas for her as if he is praying to her, his magic coiling around her in beautiful, cold, spiced need and want and she comes again and ruts into him around the wave of her pleasure and then he comes around her with a breathless, awed gasp and shudder, the headboard creaking from his extraordinary strength as he pushes back to take her deeper until it feels as if they could become part of each other. 

She collapses under the strength of his pleasure, and it is several moments before her senses return enough for her to realize he is supporting her, but his thighs are trembling. She eases her carved cock out of his body and he whimpers at the loss. She shushes him gently and runs a hand down his shaking spine. “Easy love. You were so good for me. Let me untie you.”

She keeps her touches gentle as she unties the silk rope, presses soft kisses to the bruises he pulled into his own arms, only known to her by the sweet flare of pain his magic gives when she touches them. His eyes are gold and focused on her, his mouth open as he pants and shakes and when she presses the flat of her hand to his cheek, his eyelids flutter shut as he leans into her touch.

“Kadan… my heart. Mine.”

He makes a deep, rumbling, primal noise in his chest and lets her ease him down on the bed, away from the streaks of his spend on the blanket. She unbuckles the straps about her hips and puts away her carved cock to clean later and curls into the solid heat of his side, drinking in the spiced scent of him and the singing of his magic against her.

She feels exhausted and wrung out, but sated. Satisfied and proud, triumphant. He was hers, in every way.


	6. Solas/Emma

“But here we are, my soul. Together.” He bent his head to kiss her softly.

Her aura flared in awe and happiness. “Together.” Her fingers tightened in his shirt. “This body is untouched, my love. You should remedy that.”

“Properly this time.” He said even as his hands tightened on her possessively. 

She let out a huff of a laugh. “Oh, don’t start that now, ma’fen. We know it is not your nature to be gentle when claiming.” 

“You are-” He gentled his grip.

“My fea is wounded. My body is whole.” She pressed herself against him and he groaned… six years… for her ages. “My love, I have no patience.” She accompanied the words by pressing a soft nip to his jaw. 

He knew it was a battle he would not win, and bent to capture her lips, nipping the bottom one, dragging his teeth lightly across it in the way that- She growled and yanked at his shirt- that. He allowed himself a smile that he could still affect her so. She wanted fast… rough… But he wanted… pala, he wanted to savor her… to take his time make it… pala, make it a promise… claim her so thoroughly that she could feel the effects for days. 

He dropped his head to the side of her neck and she turned her head, baring herself to him… so willingly. Trusting him at her throat even after so long. He mouthed at the line of her neck and she whimpered. “Please, my love. It's been so long… you can take your time later.” 

He sighed and bit, savoring the pleased gasp she let out as he sucked a mark into her neck. “As you wish.” with that, he picked her up, carrying her easily to the bed and laying her hastily on it. She was already yanking at the buckles of her armor, trying to undo them with one hand. 

He chuckled, knowing it would frustrate her more, and leisurely removed his shirt… he would give her the release she craved… but after… oh, after he would savor every whimper, every cry, every gasp of pleasure.

She had managed to remove the chest piece and was hissing impatiently under her breath as she yanked at the laces of her tunic. He felt her frustration and desire burning through their bond. And he smiled, stepping forward and pushing her hand away, taking over undoing the buckles and ties. Her hand went to his bare chest, scraping her nails down towards his abdomen. He hissed and caught her hand, holding it firmly as he finished removing her tunic, then pushed her down to lay on the bed, pinning her arm above her head with a band of magic. He moved down to remove her footwraps then her leggings, leaving her bare… beautifully bare. She was panting in anticipation when he finished and he smirked as he pulled back to finish undressing leisurely. 

She yanked on the magical restraint desperately, but did not unravel it like he knew she could. “Solas! Don't you dare! I  _ need _ you!” 

“And you shall have me, mine love.” He smiled when she narrowed her eyes at him… then sighed when she twisted on the bed, moving to her elbow and knees, presenting herself to him and revealing- a tattoo… a white wolf decorated her shoulder blade… colors sharp and vivid… six eyes closed as it howled… green wisps behind it. And under the wolf in a beautiful, flowing script, in his elvhen… ‘My Wolf’. He moved slowly, reverently and reached out to trace the image with his fingers… it looked… like a natural pigment, part of her body, but… 

He bent and pressed his lips against the colored flesh, savoring her tremble against his lips… then he nipped and she sucked in a breath. “You are…” another nip, another gasp as he soothed the sting away with his tongue. “Trying to break me.”

“Solas… My soul,  _ please…”  _ she gasped out, quivering when his fingers trailed lower and… pala, she was soaked. She arched into his hand, seeking his touch, her desire and need nearly overwhelming their bond.

“As you wish,” he slipped a finger into her and she keened, her body quivering around the single digit. It would not take much to send her over the edge. He slipped another finger in and she bucked back against him, her body clenching around him and her voice ragged. Needy.

“Solas! Stop teasing!” 

He chuckled, lowly against her back. “How would you have me take you, my Emma love?” He crooked his fingers and she bucked again. “My hand? My mouth? My cock?”

She gasped and pushed back onto his fingers. “Yes!”

“All of them?” He moved his fingers again and grinned against her back when she keened. 

“Anything, all of you, please.” She was panting, quivering on the very edge and he had yet to truly try to bring her to pleasure.

“How many times do you think you could endure, Mine love?” He crooked his fingers again, brushing the bundle of nerves. “How many times do you think you can come?”

She deliberately clenched around his fingers and gasped. “For every day we’ve missed, my wolf.” 

Pala… “As you wish.” He curled his fingers and pressed his thumb against her clit, sending a small spark against it and she cried out in relief and pleasure, her aura singing in ecstasy and bliss as she quaked. He had to brace himself against the onslaught of pleasure through their bond to keep from following her… he could not... not yet. He bent and kissed her shoulder before biting the flushed skin. “Only the first.”

She whimpered when he flipped her back onto her back and pushed apart her quivering thighs, not giving her a second to react before pressing his mouth to her core, and speared her with his tongue, drinking her in, tasting her arousal and heat and- fenedhis, it had been so long since he had had the taste of her on his tongue. She arched and let out a shaky, blissful cry as he devoured her pleasure, laying claim with his tongue. She began to quiver again… drawing close already, possessive, needy curls of her aura flaring with every thrust and lave of his tongue. 

When she was shaking and whimpering, her hips trying to buck in his hold, he braced himself once more for the cascade of her magic as he closed his lips over her pearl and sucked. She arched and  _ wailed, _ her aura nearly overwhelming in its pleasure and heat and-

“Pala!” He pulled away from her as the blankets caught fire, silver flames that danced in time with her shuddering pants, a lapse of control he had pulled from her. He quickly cast some ice over the flames, dousing them, before laughing and bending his head to bite at the inside of her thigh. “Ai, I’m not even finished yet, my love.” He whispered as he moved up her body to brush the short strands of hair from her beautiful, flushed, sweating face. 

“Solas…” she moaned, hand twisting the sheets above her head. “My soul, I need- I need you inside me.” He grinned and claimed her lips in a hungry, demanding kiss and let her taste herself on his tongue before pulling away completely and she whimpered in frustration at the loss of contact. “Solas... my wolf… please.”

“You want your wolf, mine love?” He asked, carefully moving down the bed so he straddled her knees. His hands went to her hips and he dug his fingers into the soft flesh possessively, sending an impression of him claiming her from behind. “How much of  _ the wolf _ do you want?”

He felt her lust coil through her haze of pleasure and she let out a shaky breath. “Yes, take- take me- claim me, my wolf.” 

“As you wish.” He moved, dispelling the binding and flipped her, pulling her up to her knees and supporting her with one arm around her stomach so as not to off balance her. He had ignored his own need this whole time, focusing solely on her, her pleasure. But he was hard and leaking, painfully desperate for her now that he had allowed himself to think on it. 

Her skin was flushed, gleaming with sweat from the pleasure he had drawn from her, the image- his mark…  _ him _ on her shoulder tempting and- oh, she had permanently marked herself for him. He groaned and pressed his lips to the image, then scraped his teeth over it, savoring her shiver and breathless gasp as he began to slowly, slowly! Press his aching cock into her slick heat. 

Slowly, gentle… allowing her new body to become accustomed to the intrusion, but she was as stubborn as she ever was, throwing her hips back and spearing herself onto him in one quick, brutal movement, tossing her head back with a satisfied cry as he gasped and bit at her shoulder, trying to contain himself at the unexpected feeling of being seated fully inside her. 

She was impatient and began to rock, drawing a gasp from his lips at the feel of her, tight and hot and  _ right _ . He gripped her hips tightly, making her still, and she growled in frustration. “Solas…  _ Move… please Fuck me!” _

The word made him growl in need and she quivered around him. “As you wish.” He pulled back slowly… till only the very tip of him was within her… and snapped his hips forward brutally. She keened as their flesh slapped together, her aura flaring bright and hot and- pala. He groaned and sunk his teeth into the curve of her shoulder, desperately trying to hold back his peak, as he fucked roughly into her exactly as they both- but he was close… much too close. 

He reached around and began frantically rolling her clit between his fingers, determined to bring her to pleasure once more before he spent and she cried and tightened around him, her aura exploding in hot ecstasy that pulled him over his peak. His hips jerked as he came and he pressed his forehead to her shoulder, trying to calm his racing heart. 

He slowly pulled out, laying down and pulling her into his arms… she was here… their bond singing in contentment… their lust for each other sated for now… and she felt perfect in his arms… right… 

“I love you.” She whispered into his chest, and their bond sang with the truth of it. 

“And I you. Mine love.” 


End file.
